


Everything has changed now, hasn't it?

by RachelSadie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gryffindor, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Post-War, Slytherin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21991834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RachelSadie/pseuds/RachelSadie
Summary: Eighth Year was meant to be simple. A time for rebuilding, for healing, and for finishing the education that they had missed out on. Of course, it's not as if Harry really got a seventh year at all. And it's not as if he can just forget all that's happened. All that's lost. And Neither can Malfoy. Desperate and searching for a normalcy that neither of them have ever known, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy never expected to find kindred souls in each other. They certainly were not expecting to enjoy one another, maybe a little too much.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 47





	1. Strip Tease, Please?

**Author's Note:**

> This Very well may become Explicit in later chapters but i have not decided. Please leave comments, as it heps me moving forward with the story to have feedback!!

"Bugger off, Weasley." Pansy's dagger filled voice shoots at Ron and for the moment, Harry is incredibly grateful that he was not the one who spun the bottle this particular round. Despite her words though, Pansy was quickly up onto her knees, pulling Ron to her, lips crashing against his in a fury. Harry pointedly did not look towards Hermione, certain he was not interested in seeing what sort of daggers of her own resided in her eyes. Spin the bottle was so much less fun with the constraints of relationships in the mix, which was why the eighth year students had all agreed that tonight they would leave monogamy at the door. Everyone had in fact agreed to this, though Harry was not altogether certain that everyone's heads and hearts were in the same place. He whooped and catcalled with the rest of the group as Pansy and Ron separated. There was nothing stranger in his mind than this moment. Had anyone told him months ago that Pansy Parkinson and Ronald Weasley would be casually snogging amid a group of their peers during a friendly game of spin the bottle, he would have had a proper laugh in their face. Strange how things had gotten here, really. It was Pansy's turn to spin now, and as her bottle came to stop on Neville, she let out a musical laugh. For years Harry had found her sickening. It's only now and in recent weeks that he's realized he never really knew her. She wasn't anything like he thought she was. Certainly, she was a Slytherin through and through. She was cunning, self obsessed most of the time, and quick to vocalize harsh or offensive thoughts without thinking to filter them. In truth, like many of her housemates, Harry had found that since letting prejudice die, he liked her company very much. The fact that she seemed to drag Draco Malfoy along, attached at her hip, to everything, was something he would have to learn to forgive. His attention returned to Neville, sputtering with a complete lack of grace as Pansy looked at him expectantly. 

"Truth, Dare, Strip, or Kiss?" Pansy had an eyebrow raised. She looked something like a cat who'd cornered a mouse. Harry felt a small pang in his chest that could only be pity for Neville in the moment. If he'd learned anything from his friendship with Pansy it was that he never wanted to be on the receiving end of that look. 

"S--Strip, I s'pose...." Neville gulped and removed his shoes, earning a scoff from Blaise and an eye roll from Hannah. 

"Neville I think that they want you to take off something more revealing." Luna's soft and delicate voice came through like a warm winter blanket. It always did. Calming the room in a ll the right ways. Even the Slytherins had managed to fall under the charm of Luna's gentle delicacy. She offered Neville a reassuring smile and after another moments hesitation, he pulled his shirt from over his head and exposed his bare chest to the room of his classmates. Dean and Seamus reached out, in sync, to touch Neville's skin with playfully teasing expressions. Seamus went as far as to rake his nails across Neville's chest before Ginny gave him a scolding look. Poor Neville was still visibly shaking, skin flushed, as he reached for the bottle to take his own turn. The war had changed Neville. Given him a confidence he'd never had before. Somehow, watching him tonight, Harry didn't think that confidence extended to sexual situations. At least, not ones that were openly being witnessed by all of his friends. Neville's spin landed on Malfoy, who made no move nor sound as he watched the bottle with narrowed eyes. As he watched the bottle, Harry watched him. Of course, Watching Malfoy was something of a past time for harry, and though he was actively trying to be more compassionate and accepting of all the Slytherins, old habits seemed to die hard in this case. Malfoy was sitting on the couch, relaxed as Harry had ever seen him, one are outstretched over the back of the thing as his fingers tapped rhythms into the cushion. He looked so calm and collected, and Harry wondered how much of that was a farce, and how much of it was truly just Malfoy's nature. For years he had seemed so uptight and on edge, Harry had assumed that was his personality. Now, he had to wonder if maybe it had only been the effects of a war worn child. 

"Might as well have a dare then, Longbottom. Do your worst." He leaned forward, unkempt blond hair falling in his eyes, causing him to shake his head once to brush it back as his elbows rested on his knees. Bright grey eyes were focused on Neville, who, for his part, seemed incredibly focused on coming up with what would in fact be his worst. Long moments ticked by, everyone's drinks seeming to refill themselves the moment that they were empty. Finally Neville cleared his throat, attracting the attention of everyone in the room. 

"I dare you to give Harry a strip tease."

The room went quiet. With the war over, plenty of rivalries and prejudices had been settled. Bad blood had been cleared between many people, as was obvious by the fact that all four houses sat here together playing tonight. Harry and Draco though, still held their fair share of tension. So much had happened between them over the years, it was nearly impossible to let it all go the way they had with almost anyone else. And until this moment, no one had really forced them into each other's space. Pansy had certainly tried a time or two, dragging Malfoy along to anything she and Harry did, but the two had always managed to keep an ideal amount of space between them. It seemed, however, like that space between them was about to get much smaller. Or so Harry thought. 

"I will do absolutely no such thing, you great buffoon." He sneered, then looked towards Pansy with what looked like panic. Harry's eyes had to be deceiving him, because it looked like understanding and pity on Pansy's face. Nothing could have confused Harry more than that. And, as stupid as it seemed, even in his head, he was a little hurt by Malfoy's rejection. It was just a game. And if they couldn't be asked to play a game together properly, how would they ever mend the fence? Or would they at all? Was it possible that this particular issue was far too damaged to be repaired. He thought maybe it was. But then, he remembered, when their lives were on the line, they protected each other. Malfoy lied for Harry, when it could have killed him. Harry braved fire for him. Those last acts had to have meant something was worth mending, didn't they? They hadn't ever been friends in the first place though, so really, there was nothing there to mend. 

He had been so lost in his own thoughts that he'd barely noticed the game continuing on. Malfoy had taken another dare, and they had all continued to play, no one noticing Harry's sudden mental absence. "I think I'll be heading to bed." He finally said, abrupt and short, as he stood, brushing his legs off and stepping over Hermione on his way to the stairs. He was well aware of all the eyes on him. He could feel the boring into him with concern and confusion and he hated it. He wanted nothing more than to shut it out, but he couldnt. Maybe Malfor was just too poised for something like a strip tease, no matter whom it was for. Though, harry couldn't imagine why he'd involve himself in a game like this to begin with if that were the case. Everyone knew how these games went. No, It had to be about Harry himself. 

He was in bed for a long time, hours ticking by as his friends remained in the common room, drinking and playing and enjoying each others company. He allowed his head to wander a million different places now that he was alone. How badly he ached for Remus and his ever-wise, ever-calm outlook on things. How desperately he wished that Fred was there to make him laugh in the face of all that had been lost. The demise of his relationship with Ginny, which thankfully had not been an ugly one, and they had remained close friends, but had hurt his already aching heart none the less. So much had been lost. So much had changed about the life that Harry believed he knew, and he had no idea how to wrap his mind around what must be his new normal. It was all he had ever really wanted out of life. Normalcy. But now that it seemed within reach, it made little to no sense at all. His mind chased itself in circles until he felt so suffocated by his thoughts that he had to get air. Sitting up, putting his trainers on and pulling a jumper over his head, he quietly made his way back out towards the common room where he'd left his classmates. He came to a halt when he entered, eyebrow shifting upwards curiously. They had all managed to pass out around the room, limbs curling around other peoples limbs, drunken and sleepy. He wasn't sure there had ever been a strange sight than members of all four Hogwarts houses curled up together, sleeping so entwined with each other. He scanned their faces from afar, each of them looking peaceful. 

His eyes stopped on Malfoy. He wasn't sure he had ever seen Draco Malfoy look any sort of peaceful at all. It was something shocking, and despite himself, he couldn't help a warmth in his chest and a small smile that pulled at the corner of his lips. In this moment, he looked just like a tired young man. The memories of him as a manipulative, mean child- or an angry, resentful teen seemed to pale in comparison to this new image. In the aftermath of the war, maybe viewing Malfoy in this position was on of the strangest occurrences. Learning to see him as the same as himself was still something he had to work on. It took some effort to rip his eyes away from the sight, and he told himself it was just because it was so strange. Like watching a car accident, you cant look away out of interest and astonishment. It certainly wasn't that it gave him peace to see Malfoy at rest. 

He stepped out of the common room and into the corridor. It was a chilly night, even in the castle, and he wondered why in all its years the castle hasnt had some form of magical intervention to help with the temperature. 

"Trying to get yourself expelled again, are you? Honestly, Potter, what danger lurks around the corner waiting for the Saviour now?" 

Harry stopped. He didn't turn around, not yet. He knew that voice as well as he knew his own. It was in his nightmares. Sometimes, he conceded, maybe his dreams as well. "You were asleep five ruddy seconds ago." He muttered as he finally turned around. 

"Yes, until you so rudely made your way through the common room with noise that could only be rivaled by a proper rock concert." Harry scowled at Malfoy, which only earned a beautiful laugh from thin pale lips. He watched the way they curled into a smile through the laugh and tried to convince himself that staring at Malfoys lips was nothing short of normal. 

"I did no such." His head shook. "I fancied some air." He didn't like the way he was being looked at. As if Malfoy knew all of his secrets. As if, after a rivalry spanning years had taught him to read Harry Potter like a book. it unnerved him. it unnerved him even more that he looked like something out of a museum as he stood there, tall, pale, eyes gleaming with an indescribable amusement that only annoyed Harry to no end. His hair was mussed in a way that looked like it had to be done on purpose, absolutely nothing like the disheveled way Harrys hair looked when he first woke up. "Go back to bed then, Malfoy." He said, turning again. 

"I don't think I will. Think I fancy myself some air too." Harry could hear the taunt in Malfoys voice and he groaned, but gestured ahead of him as if to lay 'lead the way'. But instead, Malfoy fell into casual step with Harry. Hands shoved deep into the pockets of sweatpants. He kept looking at Harry, side eying him as they made their way through twists and turns and out the castle doors. They made their way to a hill that Harry was particularly fond of, and he sat himself in the grass, looking up as Malfoy stood casually against a tree, looking out over the scene. He was still casting glances at Harry every few moments, and they were not going unnoticed. 

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" He finally spat the words out. He was so damn tired of people looking at him like he was going to break. "Not you too honestly. I have had enough of everyone eying me like that and waiting for me to have a huge meltdown. I'm as ruddy fine as I can be considering I died and came back to find out that people I loved had in fact died. I don't need everyone staring out me like I'm out of my damn mind or fragile or--" He stopped. Malfoy was laughing. Actually laughing. 

"I don't actually care about the fragile state of your mind, Potter. Much as you might think, the whole of the wizarding world doesn't revolve around your frame of mind. I've no doubt that you have a million reasons to cry yourself to sleep at night. Don't we all?" He rolled his eyes. It was only then that he remembered that Malfoy too had lost. Lost as much as he had, no doubt. Parents locked in Azkaban, Crabbe dead, his name and reputation in the mud. It silenced Harry , causing his face to redden. 

"So....then why did you keep looking at me?" He raised an eyebrow, and Malfoy was snickering again, much to Harry's annoyance. 

"Oh I was trying to figure out why my refusing to give you a strip tease made you flee the room." He said it pointedly, like an accusation, and Harry stuttered out an incomprehensible attempt at denial. When finally he managed to make words that actually sounded like words, he signed heavily. 

"In truth it had nothing to bloody do with that. Or it did but not....not the strip tease aspect really. It was more..." He huffed, unable to find his words in a way that wouldn't make Malfoy laugh at him again. "Had it been someone else, you'd have done it. And I was annoyed by the fact that after everything we've been though in the past months, this childish rivalry still exists. So strongly that we can'tbe asked to partake in a stupid game together." He didn't notice the way Malfoy's eyes darkened. He was busy studying apiece of grass with intensity. Otherwise maybe he would have been able to read the man just as well as he had been read earlier. 

"I'd have said no. No matter who it was." There was a seriousness in his voice that alarmed Harry, snapping his head up to study where grey eyes had turned charcoal. Malfoy's whole body was rigid. A far cry from the relaxed state he'd been in before. "I don't take my clothes off for the hell of it all." He shrugged, though there was something behind it that felt heavy. "I would have snogged anyone in the circle. Would have told any truth that was asked. Would have taken nearly any dare. But I don't strip, Potter. End of story." Harry was sure his eyebrows had become one with his hair at this point. 

"Oh." He looked out over the scene again, letting silence fall between them. After a while, Malfoy sat down, his back to the tree, still a good and respectable amount of space between them. Sitting in silence with him was far less awkward than Harry would have thought, and he was almost startled by the sound of his own voice as he broke the comfort. "Why? Why don't you take your clothes off? You don't strike me as particularly modest, no offense." Malfoy laughed and rolled his eyes. 

"Leave it be, Potter. You don't need to be seeing me without my bloody shirt. Not now, certainly." 

Something about the way he said it only made Harry even more curious.


	2. Broken Like Me

There was no part of Harry that had actually intended to spend the entire night out on the hill. As the sun began to come up, he realized just how long they had been out there, sharing simple and relaxed silence. Neither of them had dozed off for any length of time, and they certainly hadn't exchanged a whole lot of chatter over the course of the night. Somehow, in the silence between them, hours had passed them by. Harry sat up from where he was laying in the grass, looking over at the blonde man still sitting against the tree. He was a man now. The lines of his face were sharper than they had once been. His eyes were deeper, and he carried his shoulders with a weight that no child could bare. It struck Harry as odd. When had Malfoy turned from petulant child, to adult? He didn't vocalize any of his thoughts, though Malfoy seemed to intuitively now that he was being looked at, as his eyes turned to Meet Harrys for the first time since they had stopped speaking in the earlier part of the night. 

"Cat got your tongue, Potter?" He raised an eyebrow, giving one shake of his head to try and shake hair out of his eyes. Harry found that the way it fell, almost annoyingly in front of Malfoys face, amused him greatly and was almost an enjoyable sight. "If you've got something to say you ought to just have a go at it." He said it as if he was bored. As if there was nothing that Harry could say that would possibly bother him at this point. Harry had to wonder if that were true or if it were only an act. His lips pressed together and he considered whether or not to tell the truth. 

"Nothing." Was what came out of his mouth and he looked away, back over the sunrise. The irony of watching a sunrise with Draco Malfoy was not in the least bit lost on him. He was already trying to mentally prepare some sort of explanation to give to Ron and Hermione that would not end with aghast looks. He could feel Malfoys eyes, unbelieving and boring into him as if daring him to spit out whatever it was that he had to say. Harry was determined to be stronger, staring straight ahead and not allowing hmself to be distracted by the pull of Malfoy's eyes. "Will you stop watching me like I might spontaneously combust?" He finally asked with a sigh. 

"Are you planning to continue your self righteous assumptions that everyone who looks at you is thinking about your fragility? Or is it quite possible that you might make room in your head for the idea that some of us have thoughts that don't have to do with you?" There was a snide sass in his voice and it brought a curl to Harry's lips. It was familiar. It was the tone of his voice that he'd long grown accustomed to. Sharp, witty, piercing, and musical to Harry Potter's ears. Something that felt like the normalcy he was searching for. Though now, that normalcy was something entirely different than he had spent his life imagining. Now that he had a chance for a semblance of actual normalcy, he ached for the days prior, when he thought he knew what that word even meant. Malfoy clicked his tongue for a moment and then looked away, speaking only once his eyes were safely turned away and unreadable. "You were obviously thinking something heavy and important, Potter, so you might as well just spit it out so that I can laugh in your face or explain why you're wrong about whatever it is."

"You're an adult." He said, shrugging. Malfoy raised an eyebrow. 

"Brilliant Observation, Potter, shall we call the prophet to make it a headline?"

"I was just trying to figure out when you grew up. My last memories of you, before I left, were still so childlike." He didn't tell him that his last memory of him was of his tears. Of his wand lowering in front of Dumbledoor. He didn't tell him that he had been there that night, watching the face of a frightened child backed into a corner. "I remember you differently than you are, that's all. And it's not as if things have changed all that much in a years time." 

Malfoy scoffed, shaking his head. "Everything has changed, Potter." Another long silence fell between them, but this time, Malfoy moved to sit a little closer, next to Harry, both of them looking out over the scene as the sun continued to rise. "A lot of things happened over the last year. Im not sure anyone could live through them and maintain any sense of childlike innocence. I came out the other end of it a man. As did you." He shrugged and then looked at Harry for a moment, who seemed to be confused. "Do you truly think that you're the only one who suffered, Potter? Or that the 'good guys' were the only ones who were pained?" There was a humorless laugh. "I wont pretend for a moment to know what it was that you and your lot were doing all those months. But on my end, I was trapped in my home, kept prisoner by you-know-who himself, aiding and abetting his minions who treated my family and myself like house elves in our own home." He swallowed sharply. "I watched a werewolf sleep in my bedroom while I learned to bunk with my mother. My father and I both sat silent as unspeakable acts were committed in the walls of our home." He stiffened. "Acts that even we would only have nightmares about." His voice was so serious that Harry didn't dare comment. He didn't dare breathe and chance that Malfoy would stop talking. That he would shut down and this moment might be lost. "And even before that, my innocence had been long lost. I was being forced to redeem my familys name at only sixteen." And Harry knew what that had consisted of. He watched Malfoy for a moment, completely aghast. Of course, he knew much of this information, but to hear it spoken into reality from Malfoy himself made it entirely all the more real. "And in the end, you won. Don't get me wrong, by then, I was hoping you might, secretly. But my Aunt died in the battle. My best friend of seven years. After, my parents were taken straight to Azkaban and I was locked in my home once again to await a trial." Harry knew that the Ministry had cleared Draco Malfoy. He had been there. But he hadn't put much thought into what had happened in that inbetween time. 

"You were locked in your home." He repeated softly, a sigh on his lips. "Where Voldemort had kept you prisoner." It made sense to him now, why Malfoy had stayed at Hogwarts of Christmas. Malfoy said nothing, only gave a curt nod. It was all Harry could do not to reach out to him and pat his knee. Or worse, hug him. "You know," He paused, pressing his lips into a thin line. "When you boil it all down, we're not entirely different at this point." That brought a laugh to Malfoy, and the blonde shook his head, disbelieving. "No, Listen to me. We may have vastly different histories and vastly different personalities and all of that. Maybe we are meant to spend our time at each others throats. But the things we've seen now, you and I, are much the same. The things we have sacrificed. Loss and Trauma and all of the things that come with it." Harry looked at him with soft eyes, gentle, the way he would have approached Ron or someone close to him. The softness seemed to startle Malfoy into his normal self. 

"Yes, we've both seen big scary things. Would you like to snuggle the nightmares away and have tea?" He rolled his eyes and stood up, brushing grass from his pants and turning to head back towards the castle. He left Harry sitting there, thinking over everything that he had said. Malfoy had been just as broken as Harry had. And now, they were left to rebuild themselves. He knew that he was still coping with finding proper ways to do so, and now, he wondered how much of that Malfoy was learning too. 

"Hey." He called out, Malfoy now out of normal talking distance, having to yell. To his surprise though, he did in fact stop walking, though he didn't turn to face Harry. Clumsily, Harry stood up and rushed over. "I wanted to apologize. And I fully expect you to tell me to bugger off, but I still needed to say it. I've been a selfish ruddy prick, thinking I'm the only one who went through hell. I know that you did too. I watched you. Obviously not while I was away, but before that. I knew that you were frightened at the end of sixth year. Before I left, I knew that much. I couldn't have known what would come, but i did know that you were scared. I could have tried to help." Malfoy was laughing again, shaking his head. 

"You're not my Saviour, mate." He shrugged. "It was never that way. I didn't make that list." And Harry winced. Because he should have been on that list. He should have been another innocent person that Harry protected. Instead, Harry made him a villain in his own mind. "Go and have a crumpet and wipe that self deprication from your face, Potter, its unbecoming." He shoved at Harry, and for a moment, Harry was certain it was almost playful. 

"Come and Have a biscuit with me then." He said, nodding towards the Great Hall.

"And explain to Pansy that we spent all night together outside and came in just after sunrise? I think absolutely not." He shook his head and murmured something about Harrys lack of self preservation skills. "i think I'll see myself back to bed like a sane person." He fake bowed at Harry, making him roll his eyes dramatically. And then Malfoy was stalking away, back to the tower, leaving Harry on his own to fetch breakfast in the Great Hall by himself and ponder the mornings conversation. As he thought over it, he couldn't help but hear Malfoys voice in his head like honey. He couldn't stop seeing the sunrise refected in white blonde hair. He had to shake himself hard, forcing himself to remember words and not images. 

Draco Malfoy had always been a puzzle that Harry was desperate to solve. It bordered on obsessive, the way the two boys tormented and studied each other, back and forth until so many things were too convoluted to have a clear answer. He had hoped that in the aftermath, things might become clearer. Instead, he found himself captivated by curiosity about Draco Malfoy all over again.


	3. What's Done and What's Been Done

Defense Against The Dark Arts class began at exactly 8:15 in the morning. Professor Runwhop was many things, and timely was certainly one of them. If you hadn't arrived by 8:10, you could generally consider yourself tardy. Which was why, the whole of the Eighth Year students, had managed to get to the class by eight on the dot almost every day. Harry, having been awake all night, was already sitting perched on his desk, flipping through a book when his classmates began to straggle in. Most of them appeared just as hungover as they had been intoxicated when he'd last seen them. He raised an eyebrow at Seamus, who looked like he might vomit, and scoffed at the alabaster tone of Ron's skin. Hermione, naturally, seemed to be the most poised member of the group, and even she appeared to have a dark bruise just under her jawline that had not been magicked away. Harry could not help but snort as he saw it. But when Zacharias Smith sent Hermione an absolutely blushing glance, Harry's snort turned into full on laughter and he had to put a hand over his mouth. He was met with glares, telling him in no uncertain terms to shut up. 

He watched his classmates pour through the doors, one by one, taking in the sight of every one of them. 

"Who are you looking for, Mate?" Ron mumbled. "Haven't taken your eyes off the door since we walked in. 'M tryin to tell you somethin." Ron had taken the seat next to him and was going on endlessly about things that had happened last night after Harry had made his exit, but Harry wasn't really hearing anything that was being said. He was far too focused on something else. 

"Huh?" He finally turned. With one glance back towards the door, his eyebrows furrowed and he sank down into his chair beside Ron. "No one. What was it that Theo and Neville had to do then?" He fell easily back into mindless chatter, letting Ron go on about anything he wanted to. The chatter went on until class begun, and Harry's eyes did one last scan of the room. Draco Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. What was stranger, was that Pansy didn't seem the least bit miffed by her best friends absence. She sat there beside Nott, going about her morning as usual. The empty seat on her other side didn't seem to bother her a bit. It bothered Harry quite a lot and he found himself staring at the space for the entirety of class, missing the lesson completely. Something was off. Malfoy had never been one to skip lessons. The only time Harry could remember him doing so was in sixth year, when he'd been so overtaken by the horrors inflicted upon him at the time. Harry shuddered to think that there was anything of that nature happening now, but still, the absence was alarming, given that he'd seen Malfoy perfectly healthy and seemingly happy mere hours before. 

"Pansy!" Harry called to her after class, all but pushing through other students to get across the room to her. Of course, the moment that he caught up to her, he wasn't sure what he was meant to say. Should he just ask outright where Malfoy was? Or would that look suspicious? Malfoy had made it clear that Pansy didn't need to know they had been together that morning, so he didn't want to say something wrong and give away that information. He paused as she looked at him, her dark eyebrows raising in question. The look on her face seemed almost accusatory, and he couldn't help but wonder what lie behind the cold blue of her eyes. "Hey." Was all he managed to get out, completely aware that he looked like a blubbering fool. "I was wondering if you had seen Malfoy?" He said it cautiously. He didn't want it to seem like he was trailing him, or investigating, or stalking even. He certainly had a history of doing such things, but this was different. At least, he was telling himself that it was. He was telling himself that his consuming need to know where Malfoy was was merely a friendly concern and nothing more. All the years behind them where he had made a mission out of following the blonde's every move were behind them. The obsession, the compulsion, was as over as the war itself. 

"He's ill." She shrugged, giving little information. "He's having a rest in the dormitories." Harry's confusion only intensified. Before he knew it, he was headed in that direction, bidding goodbye to Ron and Hermione, who headed off to Potions without him, looking rather confused themselves. He didn't have time to give them any sort of explanation, though he knew he'd have to come up with one very quickly, it wasn't at the top of his mind right now. What was, was getting to the dormitories. They all shared a tower now, and were seperated only by rooms, making it easier to have access to one another in some ways. It was annoying sometimes, to have Slytherins and Hufflepuffs sharing a living space, but for now, Harry was grateful for the arrangement. He entered the room that Malfoy shared with Zabini and Smith without knocking. There he was, sprawled across his bed, fast asleep. Harry paused. Just as he had last night, he looked far more peaceful than Harry could ever remember him. But something else struck Harry too. Something that seemed trivial, but had his eyebrows furrowing in confusion again. He was asleep fully clothed. Harry was grateful for it, sparing them an awkward moment should Harry have walked in on him in less of a state, but it still seemed odd to him. 

And then the peace was disrupted. Suddenly, He was thrashing in his bed, whining. It looked like the type of night terror that he had had as a child. He recognized it so well, that even it did not shake his calm.

"Malfoy." He said softly, from the doorway, not daring to enter. He cleared his throat. "Malfoy" He said again, and this time the man stirred, his hair shaggy and in his face. As he sat up, he ran his fingers through it, brushing it back and out of his eyes. 

"Can I help you?" He asked, his tone sharp and annoyed. 

"I--" Harry paused. Why was he here? What was he doing, checking on Malfoy like a child? Pansy said he was ill, he should have just left him to his sleep. And had he just witnessed something that was not meant for him to know? "I heard you were ill and thought I might check on you." He said earnestly. 

"You heard I was ill and assumed I had to be up to something, so you came to stalk me until figuring out what it was." Malfoy huffed and stood up from the bed, stretching just enough to show a sliver of pale skin under the hem of his shirt. "I'm quite alright, I just needed some sleep, as I didn't seem to get a whole lot of it last night. Some wanker woke me up and I spent the rest of the evening outdoors in the cold." He was barely looking at Harry as he moved around the room. He wasn't making eye contact at all. "Im no longer such a snivelling little bastard that you need to follow my every move, but thank you for being concerned." There was no real gratitude. There was something else. Anger.

"I didn't think you were up to anything. Not really." Harry shook his head. He felt much more lost than he could act. How could he even begin to form a friendship with someone, when they'd had so many years of distrust? Malfoy only scoffed, taking his sweats off and pulling on trousers. Harrys eyes widened and he looked away. Out of respect, and also a little bit to try and regain some form of composure as every word he'd ever learned flew from his brain. 

"I've got to put a proper shirt on. Bugger off, I'll be out shortly." 

Harry didn't move. His eyes snapped back to Malfoy and his face read nothing but confusion. "You just took your ruddy pants right off without so much as a warning. Now you want me to leave the room so you can put a shirt on?" Malfoy said nothing, and Harry was sure there was more to this than met the eye. "What the bloody hell are you hiding under there? A third nipple? Voldemort growing out of your chest bone? Giant dark mark tattooed on your chest?" Harry was aghast at the whole of the situation. The absolute sheer ridiculousness that Malfoy would casually take his pants off but be so modest about his shirt. 

"I told you to let it go, Potter." He said, not seeming amused by Harry's attempts at guessing. But when Harry, stubborn as ever, made no move to leave, he sighed. "Shut the door at the very least then, would you?" The annoyance was clear in his tone, but Harry did as he was told, turning back towards Malfoy and stopping dead in his tracks as he did. He immediately thought he might vomit. Malfoys skin was alabaster white. So pale that he was certain it could almost be see through. His chest was perfectly chiseled like something out of a magazine, or something carved from stone. Yet, across the planes of his skin, long pink lines puckered the skin. They would have been gruesome on anyone else, but somehow they still looked like beauty in contrast with his skin. It wasn't the sight of them that made Harry's stomach twist. It was what had caused them. 

"Oh." He said softly, barely even a word. He wanted to die right there on the spot. Shame and guilt and fear all mixing in his chest. 

"As it turns out, certain dark magic can be healed but not erased." His tone was even, and he was looking at Harry with such a cool, calm expression. It didn't seem to hold any resentment, though, in this moment, Harry was resenting himself enough for them both. He couldn't stop himself when his feet seemed to carry him forward of their own volition. "What are you doing, Potter?" He sneered down. There was now so little space between them that Malfoy had to actually look down at Harry. 

"I-" He was stammering again, but he raised one hand and very hesitantly, very carefully, as if touching a wounded animal, laid his bare hand on Malfoys chest, feeling the pucker of skin under his palm. Malfoy took a breath and held it, but didn't move or jump away from his touch. He only seemed more like stone than ever before, not moving, not breathing, as Harry moved his hand across the scars. "I did this to you, didn't I?" He didn't have to ask. He knew. And when he tilted his head up to look at Malfoy, the answer was in his eyes. 

Thin fingers reached down and wrapped tightly, painfully, around Harrys wrist. "That's quite enough of---this." He finally said, stepping out of reach again. Harry's chest had tightened. He had no idea what to say when Malfoy turned away again and finally put on his shirt. 

"I have nightmares about it." Harry finally said. Malfoy looked at him over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "I never wanted to hurt you. I---I still think about it. I still feel....." He paused. "I'm not going to make excuses. You deserve better than to have to hear about how I feel. You were the one I attacked. And if you never forgive me for it, I wont blame you a single bit." 

Malfoy was quiet a moment. "Potter, I think you have a very serious memory problem that you need to have checked out. You didn't attack me out of nowhere. I attacked you first and foremost. You walked in and said my name and my first reaction was to throw an unforgivable at you. Why? Because you saw my tears? Because you said my name?" Malfoy shook his head. "You've got a ruddy saviour complex the size of your ego mate. And you know quite well how I feel about your ego." He sat down on the bed, next to where Harry had sat himself at the edge. Without a word, or a thought, apparently, Harry reached out and slid his hand under the new shirt. Malfoy didn't stop him, but was fixing him with a curious and trepadatious look.

"Potter." Malfoy said, a laugh forming on his lips. "I think you ought to take your hands off me." harry pulled back as if he had been burned, stuttering out apologies. Malfoy's laughter only increased. "I'm only saying that if someone walks in here and finds that we've skipped class, and finds your hands under my shirt while sitting on my bed, I will be leaving it up to you to find an explanation." He shrugged and pulled his robes on as he stood. "Come on now, I've missed enough lessons for one day."


	4. Steam and Stories

"Exactly what are you playing at?" Harry whispered to Malfoy as the blonde sat down next to him for breakfast. Ron and Hermione had gone for a walk, and Seamus and Dean were to engulfed in each other to be paying much attention at all. Still, Harry knew that Malfoy sitting with him was incredibly strange. And judging by the way Ginny was looking at him from a few spots down, she was equally as suspicious. Days had passed since their brief moment in the dormitories and they had gone back to their normal routine. Ignoring each other's very existence, until it was time for mockery or insults. It almost seemed though like there was something weak behind the insults now. Like something had changed and they were done with less hostility and more humor. 

"Excuse you. I just thought I might sit and have a meal. Would that be alright or should I sit somewhere where I wont darken the glean of light that radiates out of The Chosen One's arse?" Harry only glared at him in return, making a point to focus on his breakfast. He didn't want Malfoy to go, not really, but something about prying eyes made him uncomfortable. Too many people were looking at them. He'd been stared at so much since the war ended, he should be used to it, but the amount of people who were constantly looking at him gave him bad anxiety. Malfoy casually joining him for breakfast didn't help that situation much. He looked over at Malfoy, who seemed entirely unfazed by the fact that Harry was less than welcoming. "I wanted to ask you something." He said it through a mouthful of food and Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "You mentioned the other day that you had nightmares." Harry nodded. He did. Almost every night. He knew now of course that Malfoy did too. "What are they about?"

Harry sighed and took a long drink of tea, suddenly wishing that it was firewhiskey. "Not really your business, Malfoy." He snapped. The last thing he needed was to provide Draco Malfoy with the perfect ammunition to taunt him. And then came a long sigh, as he heard himself thinking old, run down thoughts. Malfoy was different now and so was he. Older, weary, and tired of the game. If Malfoy was asking such a question now, there was almost certainly a reason. "Sorry." He muttered softly. "I....don't quite know that this is an enjoyable breakfast discussion. Could we perhaps argue the magical dynamics of broomsticks? Or I could listen to you explain Magic Theory for the fifteenth time this week?" He passed a plate of Lemon tarts down the table, but when his eyes turned back he knew that he wasn't getting out of this easily. Grey eyes met green ones with a look so intense that Harry knew better than to continue his casual avoidance. "I don't know they're different sometimes. Like I said, I have nightmares about you. What happened in the bathroom. it's sort of like I hear the sound of your screams while I sleep. Then I suppose there's also times when I have nightmares about the killing curse. Never specific really, but it usually is just these big flashes of green light and screaming. Sometimes I see Sirius or Remus and Tonks. Sometimes Fred, but when I do, he's never laughing and it seems very wrong." He swallowed sharply. He had never vocalized any of this before. 

"And how do you keep them managed?" Malfoy's question was soft and quiet and sounded entirely sincere. It was free of judgement or disdain and Harry was suddenly not sure it was his nightmares Draco was truly asking about. 

"Well..." He hummed. "Sometimes a good cuppa before bed helps. Lavender tea can be very calming. Sometimes I take a hot shower and I sit on the floor until I'm so exhausted that I fall asleep immediately." He shrugged. "Sometimes its best if I don't sleep alone, so I share a bed with Ron or Hermione or Ginny." He wasn't looking at Malfoy now. This seemed far too much to admit to someone who he'd spent years seeing as a rival. 

"Mine are about the things that happened while You Know Who was living in my house." Malfoy said plainly. "Sometimes they're about my trial." This caught Harrys attention. Malfoy's trial had gone over quite well in the end. 

"Your trial?"

"Yeah. What if you had not spoken for me? What if you had spoken against me? What would have become of me?" Harry was shaking his head before the words were even finished. That was never going to happen. But just as he was about to say as much, Ron and Hermione came rushing back in, taking their seats and barely taking not of Malfoys presence. It shut the conversation up immediately though, neither of them keen to share the details of their nightmares as a morning conversation with other people as well. 

The rest of the day seemed entirely uneventful. In fact, it was almost downright boring. Harry had bid goodnight to pretty much everyone early in the evening, and was now on his way to the eighth year bathrooms to have a hot shower before bed. Of course, he sighed to realize, the shower was preoccupied when he got there. He found a bench and got comfortable, waiting his turn. 45 minutes later, when no one had emerged from the shower, but the water was still running, he began to grow concerned. "Hello?" He said, rapping on the wall just beside the curtain. "someone in there?"

"Yes, Potter, obviously." Came the return of a familiar voice. Harry stilled. Because the voice sounded like it had come from the floor. Slowly, his mind was piecing things together. Making sence of their earlier conversation, and what was happening now, connecting the information in his mind like a puzzle. He paused for a moment and moved to cast a locking spell on the door, before he leaned on the wall just near the shower again. He sank down to sit against the wall, not taking any care in the fact that the water seeped out of the shower on the floor, and he was now sitting in a puddle. He knew what it was like to have to work through inner demons, and he didn't want to leave anyone, even (especially) Malfoy to do it on his own. His hands rested on either side of him, one visible to Malfoy under the curtain, just to let him know that Harry was still there. 

When another thirty minutes seemed to pass, Harry stood. But instead of walking away, he put his hand on the curtain, hesitating for a moment, and then pulled it slightly open. 

"Privacy, Potter!" Malfoy exclaimed, but it was half hearted. There was no malice. He sounded nothing but tired. And he looked it. He was sitting, naked with his knees pulled to his chest in the corner of the shower, his head leaning on the wall. Harry stepped in, fully clothed, and shut the curtain, taking a seat directly across from Malfoy but leaving a respectable distance. The water would soak his clothes in seconds, and he hadn't even considered to take off his trainers, but he didn't care. "Bold of you." Draco scoffed and shook his head. 

"It's gotten bad, hasn't it?" Harry questioned. 

"It's always bad." Was the answer that he received.

He didn't know how to reply to that. So instead he sat there quietly, and it barely even occurred to him in the moment that Malfoy was stark naked. It wasn't what mattered right now. What mattered was the both of them, sharing this incredibly vulnerable moment, and trying to find some peace in doing so. "You know you don't have to suffer through it all on your own, yeah? I mean I don't think I would have made it through a lot of nights without support." 

"I don't have a fan club to dry my tears, do I?" Malfoy's eyes rolled, but even his insults were coming across flat. Harry ignored the jab. 

"I'm only trying to say that if you need someone around, I can be. i'm fully a mess of my own, but I don't mind being a mess in the same location. If you would like." Harry shrugged, trying to come across as easy going as possible. But when Malfoy looked up at him, Grey eyes shining through pale hair plastered to his skin, his heart did a funny thing he wasn't quite sure he approved of. 

"You're sitting in my shower with me, Potter. I'm not sure how much closer I can allow you to get." They both let out something of a laugh. "We've had some very innocent but hard to explain moments a s of late. This one may take the cake, as i can't see a proper way to explain blokes showering together that doesnt sound exactly as it sounds." Harry shrugged. They would figure it out if they had to. If they were caught. He was better making up lies on the fly than trying to plan them. 

"What were you thinking about before i came in?" He asked, wondering what terror had driven Malfoy to this spot tonight. 

"Killing Dumbledore."

"You didn't." Harry said the words sternly, as if reminding him. 

"I caused his death." 

"You didn't" 

"I did." 

Harry pressed his lips together and looked up towards the shower head, letting water soak his hair, exposing his scar now that black locks slicked back. He groaned softly as he prepared himself to talk, for the first time, about all the things he had learned. He moved so that he was sitting next to Malfoy, now within touching distance, but keeping his hands to himself. "I have a lot to tell you, so just listen. I'll explain everything. But it ends with you not causing Dumbledores death." He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Then, under the heat of water and steam, sitting on the floor of the Eighth Year bathrooms, Harry launched into the tale of Dumbledore and Snape. Snapes loyalties to Lilly and how they became Loyalties to Dumbledore. How Dumbledore had been dying and the whole rouse to prove Snape's loyalty through his death. Malfoy listened, mouth agape. 

"What the bloody fuck?" He finally said, breaking the end of story silence. Harry only nodded, fully agreeing with the sentiment. 

"Snape and Dumbledore planned his death together, mate. It was never your fault." He nudged the boys shoulder gently. "Plus you lowered your wand. I was there, under the cloak. I saw you decide not to do it." Harry bit his lip. "So yeah. You didn't do it, and you didn't cause it." 

Malfoy tipped his head back, squeezed his eyes closed, and grasped Harry's hand. It was hard and bruising, and the only thing that distracted Harry from the fact that his hand might break, was the wretching sob, full of both relief and despair, that came from Malfoy's chest.


	5. Chapter 5

In the days following their shower, things between Harry and Malfoy seemed to be looking up. They were developing something like a friendship, if one could call bonding over mutual trauma the beginings of friendship. Ron and Hermione were entirely aghast at the situation but managed to remain supportive. Harry was nearly certain that after the events of the war, they would support him no matter what choices he made. A budding friendship with Draco Malfoy was weird, shocking even, but it wasn't the most mad thing he could have done in the aftermath of his trauma. 

"I just want to know why he has to come to Hogsmede with us?" Ron whined, and Harry just shook his head. 

"Be nice, Ron. The war is over, yeah? So leave him be." 

"I'm not even bothered by the war, I just think he's a ruddy tosser. But whatever you say mate." That was the only conversation that was had on the subject for the rest of the day. And when Malfoy was waiting for them in the common room to head to Hogsmede, Hermione was the first to great him with a warm and welcoming smile that surprised even Harry. He was grateful for it though, knowing that Hermione's warmth could calm any situation. Not to mention that if Hermione could forgive Malfoy for the way he had treated her over the years, than certainly the rest of them could overcome their prejudices. What was stranger yet, was that as they made their way from the castle to the Village, Hermione and Malfoy seemed to be having an in depth conversation about Magic Theory. They were chattering back and forth and Harry laughed. Finally they each had someone interested in the topic that they could ramble on with. 

"Fizzing Whizbees or Chocolate Frogs? Pick one." Harry held them up to his friends. 

"Both." Ron and Malfoy spoke in unison, and then both visibly winced. Harry and Hermione only laughed in the face of that tension, knowing it would eventually work itself out. Ron held grudges, but eventually he got over them, and Malfoy seemed to be trying his best to be a more decent person. 

As they left the candy store, flashes of light hit them from all angles. There were suddenly Cameras and people everywhere, calling out to Harry. Everyone wanted a chance to talk to him about the war. Everyone wanted to hear him speak. He hated this almost more than he had hated the war itself. At least, he thought, no one died this way. He felt like he might though. His face ran pale and he could feel the anxiety in his chest. He was shaking his head, repeating the words 'No comment' over and over again. Ron and Hermione tried to sheild him as they pushed through people. He felt a strong hand grasp at his shoulder and knew without looking that it didn't belong to Ron. Malfoy was standing next to him, as if his own fear of the press meant nothing to him. Harry wasn't sure how that could possibly be true. 

Before he really had time to process what was happening, Malfoy had rolled his shirt sleeves up and was very clearly displaying the tattoo on his inner wrist. He was flashing a brilliant smile and speaking to anyone who would turn his way. At first, it confused Harry entirely. But when Hermione whispered "He's distracting them." Harry suddenly understood. No one was looking at him anymore. They were all busy getting quotes from Draco Malfoy. The Reformed Death Eater who got off scott free. Harry met Draco's eyes through the crowd, and he couldn't read them. Whatever was on Malfoys face was entirely contrived. It wasa show being put on for the press and there was no sign of what was really going on in his head. But Harry took the out, using Malfoys distraction to evade the press and making his way back to the castle. The rest of the day was almost certain to bring anxieties now, and he would far rather be wound up and out of sorts at Hogwarts where the press would be cursed for setting foot through the gate. 

Malfoy arrived back at the Great Hall just in time for an early dinner. When he sat his hand on Harry's shoulder, Harry visibly jumped, startled and scared. It didn't seem to phase him though. "It's only me mate." Malfoy said, sliding into the space beside Harry. They ate in near silence, Harry unable to form the correct words of gratitude for what Malfoy had done earlier.

"Malfoy, can we have a word?" He asked, gesturing out of the Great Hall where he wouldn't be listened to. The blonde nodded and they both made their way out, walking side by side down a corridor until they were well enough away. He stopped and leaned back against the wall. "Thanks. For what you did today. I don't--- I don't like the press. They give me such a problem. Like they want me to recount the worst things that have ever happened to me just for their amusement." He paused. "But you didn't have to put yourself out there like that. I wouldn't have ever expected you to."

"You didn't expect. You didn't ask me to, I just thought I might lend a hand." He spoke as if it were nothing important at all, when to Harry, it was huge. 

"'I-- Well. Thank you again." He started to turn back but then stopped, turning back to Malfoy. "Would you like to stay with me tonight? I can charm my bed to be quite large. Ron stays with Hermione most nights unless I ask him not to, but I always feel very guilty doing that." Malfoy looked stunned, and Harry immediately was regretting the choice to speak. "If not I can ask Ginny. Or Luna. Or Seamus even. It's quite alright if that's entirely weird, don't feel any sort of way about saying no if you would like." He continued to ramble on that it was okay, until finally Malfoy shook his head. 

"Potter. Shut up. Yes. I will. I was just taken aback by the offer." He rolled his eyes as if Harrys sudden self conciousness was amusing to him. 

"Right. Okay. Well then, lets get back to dinner..." He was trying to conceal the fact that his heart was leaping in his chest, summersaulting and twisting all sorts of ways. 

The night came quickly, and he found himself alone in his room with Malfoy, the both of them getting into pajamas. Modesty between them had passed entirely after the shower, and looking back on how only a week ago, Malfoy didn't want Harry to see him shirtless, it made him laugh. Harry climbed into his bed, followed by Malfoy who was careful not to get too close or cross any unwanted boundaries between them. This was such strange new territory. A very odd twist to their relationship. Being in a shower together, sharing a bed....they were incredibly intimate aspects of life that the boys were sharing. Only, they were not quite willing to admit that the intimacy existed. 

"Do you miss your parents?" Harry asked in the dark. 

"My mother, sure. My father was a bastard. Do you?"

"I believe that I miss the idea of mine. But I didn't really ever know them. I met their ghosts once, sort of, but can I really miss someone I didn't know? I f eel like I can but..." He swallowed and looked across the bed at malfoy. 

"I think you can. I quite miss Nymphadora. Or Tonks, as you called her. I didn't even really know her. Actually I didn't know her at all. You knew her far better than I did. I only met her maybe one time. But I miss the relationship that could have had the opportunity to brew." He shrugged. "And a very sick part of me misses my Aunt Bella."

"Family is strange."

"My family is psychotic."

"Still your family though." The fact that Malfoy could actively miss a person like Bellatrix Lestrange was so strange to him. But at the same time, he understood the bonds that family could hold over you. And maybe he didn't know what sort of aunt she had been to Draco. Though, she had been in Azkaban most of his life. That was none of Harry's business. After a moment, and Idea came into Harry's mind and he chewed on his lip for a moment, staring at the ceiling in darkness before he rolled over onto his side to look more directly at Malfoy. "Would you like to meet Teddy Lupin?" He asked cautious. "I'm....very protective of him and I don't really allow many people to get near. He's currently living with the Weasleys though, and I think, if you wanted, that might be okay."

Malfoy didn't know how to reply at first. "Yes. I would like that."


	6. Damage Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I have not abandoned this story I am just....slow and easily distracted.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Harry raised an amused eyebrow at Malfoy as they stood outside the burrow. He looked like he was about to walk into a lion's den, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the fear. Fearing the Burrow, and the Weasleys, seemed very strange to him. He supposed though, that for Malfoy it made sense. After everything that he had done during the war, he could rightfully expect that people would not all be so welcoming to him. Harry knew better though. He knew the Weasley's better than that. They were the most likely family to allow reform and change and understanding. Hed never met a more empathetic and compassionate group of people. Malfoy, for his part, was shaking where he stood. Harry reached out a hand to touch him and he flinched back, out of touching distance. 

"I'm fine, Potter." He snarled. Harry tried not to take it personally. Malfoy tended to fall back into hostility when he was uncomfortable. It was like a defense mechanism that he hadn't quite figure out how to overcome yet. Though they had spent nights in the same bed now, and showered together, even, Harry was still the last person Malfoy liked to be emotionally vulnerable in front of. During daylight hours, at least. It sometimes seemed to Harry like Malfoy put on a show during the day that he let go of at night. He could never tell if that show was for the world, or for Harry, or himself. 

"Alright." He nodded and moved forward as to lead Malfoy in. The moment they were through the door of The Burrow, he felt at home. It smelled of soup and cinnamon, and the temperature was warm, like being wrapped in a blanket. "Mrs. Weasley?" He called out loud, and the moment he did, Ginny appeared in front of him, wild red hair flowing behind her. 

"Harry, I thought we said no more strays." She scolded him softly, and he could hear the tease in her tone. "Especially not stray rodents. I mean goodness. I hear that ferrets smell atrocious." She winked at him and he shook his head. He knew she was playing, but it was ill-timed considering that Malfoy was having constant anxiety about being here at all. "Mums upstairs taking care of Andy. It could be a little while. Today's not been a good one." The somber look on her face told Harry too much. Andromeda had not handled the loss of her daughter and sister well. Her daughter had been a valiant fighter and a strong woman. It made all the sense to mourn her. Harry still struggled to understand the woman grieving her sister, but then, he didn't have siblings, so maybe he had no right to judge her. The fact that Andy was living here, being tended by the very woman who killed her sister, was a strange twist of irony. Bellatrix had to die though, and even Andromeda knew it, and didn't seem to hold a grudge against Molly. 

Malfoy shifted, silent but obviously lost, behind Harry. If Ginny's insults had stung him, he didn't show it. "And your brothers, Weaslette?" He asked pointedly, wanting out of Ginny's company as quickly as possible. She was, by far, his least favorite of the redheads. There was a twist of his stomach every time he was around her that he couldn't quite place. No real reason to dislike her so much, but something off about the way he felt standing there with her and Harry. 

"Ronald is playing with Teddy, and George is flying. Charlie and Bill aren't here." She pointed upstairs towards where Ron was, and Harry turned to head that direction with Malfoy in tow. "Don't pay her any attention He said as they got out of earshot. "She's only trying to get under your skin for a laugh. She doesn't actually mean harm." Somehow, Malfoy didn't believe him. 

"Yeah, Okay. You have to defend her she's your ex-girlfriend." 

"Sounds like more reason not to defend her, doesn't it?" Harry raised an eyebrow. Had he believed Ginny was actually being nasty, he'd have shut it down. He didn't want to cause trouble over pettiness though. It simply wasn't worth it. 

"What did she mean about it being a bad day?" Malfoy asked quietly. Harry sighed in return. 

"Andy hasn't been quite well since the war. She and Ted have been staying here, with Teddy. Ted has to work still so Molly helps take care of her." He shrugged. "grief and trauma look different on us all I suppose." Malfoy nodded silently in agreement, but his heart had sunk in his chest a little. Knowing that his aunt, whom he'd never had a chance to know before now, was struggling so much, made him feel like he'd done a shit job at being family. Another regret to hold onto. The thought froze in his head as they finally entered Ron's attic bedroom though. He sat on the floor, playing with a baby who laid on his tummy, batting at a miniature snitch that flew around his head. Harry gave Malfoy a reassuring nudge as they crossed further in. Harry himself sat down on the floor beside Ron and Teddy, placing a kiss on the baby's head. Malfoy just stood there for a moment, watching Harry, until finally, he sat down in front of the baby as well. 

"Hello there." He smiled softly. Long pale fingers reached out and caught the tiny, pulling it from the air to present to Teddy. The baby giggled loudly at reached out to touch it, exploring the feel of it before Draco let it go again. Harry couldn't help the smile on his face and tried to look away to at least shield it. He'd never seen Malfoy look so...soft. At this moment, sitting on the floor of the Burrow, he was almost childlike himself. Harry couldn't help but wonder if this was what things would have been like if they had been friends years ago. Malfoy had missed the look on Harry's face, but as he looked back towards the scene, it became increasingly evident that Ron had decidedly not. He was staring at Harry with disbelief in his eyes and, in order to keep things from becoming all too noticeable and weird, Harry looked away again quickly. 

The entire afternoon went on that way, playing with Teddy in Ron's room. Every once in a while the baby's hair would change color and Malfoy would laugh endlessly. By the end of the day, Harry was certain he had never see Malfoy smile so much. It was a shame when it faltered just before dinner. 

"I think I'll just head on back to the castle." Malfoy said, stepping into a dusty corner and allowing Harry's body to turn and almost sheild him from view. "Seeing the kid was nice but I don't think I'm quite welcome to family dinner just yet, Potter." 

"If you weren't welcome, I would tell you. Or they would. I don't know if you noticed but the Weasleys aren't exactly quiet with there thoughts. You think that Ginny and George would sit silently if you weren't wanted here?"

"Harry...." Malfoy trailed off shaking his head. "Just because you've chosen to forgive my huge mistakes doesnt mean everyone has done or ever will do." 

"Would it help if I held your hand?" Harry raised an eyebrow. 

"Likely not, no." Malfoy shook his head, then peered over Harry's shoulder into the kitchen where a sea of red had overtaken the knobby wooden table. Harry did not reach for his hand, and Malfoy didn't extend it. the closeness between them was too private to put on display in this place where he felt anything but comfortable. "I'll stay if it's truly a big deal, but only if Weaslette behaves herself." 

There was a sharpness in his tone that was a little more than was necessary, and Harry raised an eyebrow. "What is your problem with Ginny?" His tone was baffled. "I know you have never gotten on with any of them, but if you ought to have an issue with one specifically I would have expected it to be Ron. And I can't imagine your distaste for him is greater than for me." He could not figure out what had happened with Ginny. Had he missed something while he'd been away?

"I just don't bloody like her, Potter. It's not any deeper than that." He dipped under Harry's arm, which was a feat considering he was several inches taller. "Let's go then." He said over his shoulder. Harry was certain he could visibly see Malfoy lift his chin and straighten his shoulders with perfect poise. He truly was putting on a show for the Weasleys and Harry couldn't help but chuckle. 

"Draco, dear, how are you liking the eighth year set up?" Molly's tone was sweet, and Ron scoffed slightly. 

"It's not bad. certainly different to be mixed houses. quite the social experiment I might say, but maybe good practice for the world where we may be at the Ministry or out there working with people from other houses." He shrugged. "I do find myself learning more and more from students I might never have spoken to before."

"You wouldn't have spoken to anyone before. you were too busy with snape's cock in your mouth to form words. Except for when it was up your arse instead. Pretty much convinced you always had something up there to be honest. " Ginny grinned as if she'd said something hilarious. George stifled a laugh, while Ron and Charlie sat frozen. 

"Ginerva Weasley!" Molly Scolded loudly, obviously horrified by her daughter's tongue. "How dare you--" Malfoy coughed, and everyone turned to him. 

"It's alright, Mrs. Weasley. She's allowed to be hateful." He tipped back in his chair, a small smirk on his face. "I only wish it was for the right reasons though. Plenty of things to hate me for if she wants to, but I think Ginny's problem is far more personal than any missteps I made during the war. It seems to have to do with the fact that if there's a cock in my mouth nowadays, it certainly doesn't belong to Severus Snape now, does it? " He raised an eyebrow at Ginny, and Harry's heart hammered in his chest. Harry could tell where this was going and he didn't like it one bit. 

"Mate-- put a stop to this," Ron whispered to him, but he was frozen. His eyes on Malfoy. There was no way he was doing what it seemed like he was doing. Insinuating they had crossed lines that they absolutely hadn't. They hadn't come anywhere close. They hadn't even kissed. 

"My problem is that you're a ruddy prat. No matter what side of the war you fell on or how reformed you supposedly are. You're nowhere near good enough--" 

"Ginny." Harry warned, his voice finally breaking through, though strained. She shot him a look that could have set him on fire. 

"Good enough for--?" Malfoy was pushing. Harry wasn't waiting for this to continue. He'd heard enough. They all had. They knew where this was going. With a huff, Harry stood up and walked out of the Burrow and into the gardens. He was desperate for some air after that, not even wanting to know how it ended. 

Fifteen minutes passed before the blond appeared in the garden, walking up and resting both hands on Harry's shoulders. "How angry are you?" He asked. Harry could hear a slight smirk in his voice, but there was also something else. Something.....hesitant. 

"Furious. At the both of you. that was the most childish and trivial display of jealousy I have ever seen. From the both of you." He stood up and turned around to face Malfoy. "And the fact that you were dishonest about things of that nature makes me really bloody uncomfortable." He shook his head in frustration, running a hand through his black hair. "Just...Go back to the castle, Draco." He took another step back.

Malfoy started to walk away, to apparate once he'd gotten clear distance.   
"I'll meet you there. Later." Harry called after him. He was still full of anger and confusion and something else he couldn't name, but he wasn't ready to close the door on Malfoy completely. First, though, he had damage control to do inside.


End file.
